Forever and Ever
by UndoneChaos
Summary: Kenny recalls how he first met Damien, and all of the things that led up to the day he stopped going back to Earth. WAY BETTER THAN IT SOUNDS, I suck a** at summaries.


**You don't need to read the italicized, but it makes WAY WAY WAY more sense if you do. Actually, screw it. READ THE ITALICIZED OR I HUNT YOU DOWN WITH A GUN AND MURDER YOU!**

**Disclaimer: Do I need one?**

_I remember clearly the first time I went to Hell. I was eight, and had been killed by some cows and a police officer. I had been cursing that day, and making some crude comments like I had done since I learned to talk. Apparently that was enough for God to say "Alright, you're going to Hell!"._

_Dying wasn't very fun. I remember my soul leaving my body as my life was ripped out of me. It was kind of foggy for a while, and then I dropped. Dow, down, down I went, until I landed on the cold, hard ground. When I stood up, a boy my age was standing in front of me. He has black hair and red eyes, and when he spoke his voice was higher than mine!_

_"Who are you?", the boy squeaked._

_"Kenny", I said, but the boy didn't hear me. Courtesy of my hood I suppose._

_"Oh, well, plenty of time to get acquainted later. But for the sake of common courtesy, I'm Damien Thorne. I'm Satan's son, and this is Hell", the lille boy said, motioning with his arms._

_"Yes, I can see that", I mumbled, again my fords going unheard._

_"You and I will play now", Damien said, and some strange game I had never seen before appeared in front of me. The game of Life, it was called. Oh, the irony. Playing Life when you're dead…_

_We had gotten about halfway through the game when I started fading. Damien looked up._

_"Why are you going? We're having fun!" he cried, looking miserable._

_"I don't know…" I said, and evaporated._

_Blinking my eyes, I sat up in bed. "What the actual fuck?" I asked myself._

_That was the first time I had died._

_Then there was that time that Damien came to Earth, but that's a long story that has nothing to do with me. Except that the bastard turned me into a platypus._

_It started happening every time I died. I would end up in Hell, lay with Damien for a while. I was starting to like him, maybe more than I should have. I think he felt that way too, he would always smile at me. He even gave me a nickname, ènfant mort. It meant death child in French. I didn't know he spoke French, but when I asked him why he had given me a French nickname, he said it sounded cooler that way._

_That was another thing about him that was different. He caught on to what I was saying right away._

_I told him my big secret, that I had been whoring myself for moony, when we were ten. He slapped me and told me that I could do so much better. If I wanted a job, he said, then he would find one for me. I had never (surprisingly) been slapped before. I cried. He felt so bad that he hugged me, told me that he didn't mean it and that I could do whatever I wanted. But I knew he was right._

_At age thirteen, he asked me why I never took my hood off. I answered simply with a shrug, but he knew I knew._

_I finally told him the truth, that it was concealing my scars. It held in my pain and comforted me. He asked me to take in off, just for a second. He wanted to see my face. I complied, gently pulling the hood down._

_He could do nothing but stare for a while, before telling me that I was beautiful. Then, to my surprise, he kissed me. It was chaste, and sweet, and warm, and I wanted more. But my cruel curse chose that moment to pull me back to Earth. I cursed God and cried that night._

_The next big thing that happened between us was when I was fifteen. Damien's voice had dropped about four octaves, leaving him to sound sexy and mysterious. I walked into his room, like it was my own._

_"Death this time?" he asked nonchalantly._

_I thought back, trying to remember. "Syphilis, again", I finally answered._

_"Again? I thought I told you to stop whoring yourself five years ago!" he complained, making me smile._

_"Yes, you did. But how else am I supposed to get money?" I laughed, picking a pillow up off of his bed and throwing it at him._

_"Dick", he grunted, but then smiled. I sat next to him on the bed and we just stared into space for a second, before he spoke._

_"I think I love you", he said, speaking slowly as if he was talking in a foreign language._

_"I love you too", I said, and kissed him lightly an the cheek. "But I can't stay here forever. I wish I could though. So get your dad to working on a way to make me stay!" I laughed. He promised he would._

_At seventeen, we learned how I could stay. Satan himself explained it._

_"In order to stay down here with us forever, to not be brought back to Earth unless by wish, you would have to be tainted with darkness. That would mean someone down here would have to taint you *cough* Damien *cough*", Satan explained. Damien blushed and looked quizzically t his father, while I pondered over the big question in my head, namely being 'Did Satan REALLY go *cough* Damien *Cough*? Like, what the fuck dude?'_

_"It would mean he would have to… Well, to put it in nicer words…" Satan leaned down to whisper it in Damien's ear. Damien again blushed, but this time his abnormally pale face looked red as a tomato._

_We then walked back to his room, where he explained, very curtly, how I would be able to stay in Hell._

_"You must perform the most unsavory act known to man", he said._

_"What, you mean like they do in pornos or–" he cut me off._

_"I have to fuck you. I have to cut the symbol of the devil on your chest and write the curse of darkness on your arms while fucking you", he said._

_"OK, that's definitely more BDSM than pornos–" I said, again being cut off by him._

_"I'm being serious", he said, very seriously. "It's up to you, whether you want to do it or not", he said._

_"I'm thinking", I answered, before my curse took me back to Earth._

_And for another year, our lives were like Daylight by Maroon 5._

**And when the daylight comes I'll have to go,**

**but tonight I'm gonna hold you so close**

_You know, that song? Anyway, for my whole seventeenth year alive, (or dead-alive, whatever I was) I mulled over the consequences of staying in Hell. Did I really want this? Did I really want to give up my life to stay in a pit of fire forever? FUCK YES! My life sucked ass on Earth. So I made my decision. And that is where we are now._

"I'm so sorry", Damien said as he pushed into my surprisingly still virgin hole.

"Well this hurts like a bitch", I complained, biting my lip in order to hold the screams back.

"That's not the fucking worst of it", Damien said, holding up a knife.

"Ooh, I've felt worse. Now move, god dammit, or the pain will never go away!" I grunted. Damien complied, slowly sliding out before slamming back into me.

"I'm going to cut you now", he warned, dragging the tip of the blade through the skin on my chest, leaving a line to start the symbol of the Devil. I arched my back into the pain, tears forming in the corners of my eyes. Damien cut line after line, forming some shape that only he and his father could decipher.

He pulled the blade away, finished with my chest. He ran the tip of it along his tongue, clearing away the blood that dripped there.

"And now your arms", he said, thrusting into me again before moving down to my arms. In to my right arm he carved †˙´ ∂´√ˆ¬ ∑ˆ¬¬ ´ˆñ or the devil will reign, and into my left one he carved ƒø´√´ µøé or forever more.

"Sonofabitch!" I gasped as he pulled the blade away from the last cut on my arms. I looked down to my body. It was covered in perfectly etched symbols and lettering.

"Ever consider being a tattoo artist?" I asked Damien, half joking.

"You're my only canvas", he said, and thrust into me again, hitting my prostate.

"JESUS FUCK!'' I shouted, aching my body as I pressed myself against his cock. "Do that again…" I whispered, tears of pleasure and pain falling dan my face.

Damien grabbed onto my hips and rammed into me again, hitting my prostate over and over.

"Fuck, you're so god dammed tight!" Damien breathed, ramming into me.

"I saved myself", I smirked. He grinned at me before slamming into me again.

"Beg for it, énfant mort", he smiled sadistically.

"Please…" I panted.

"Louder, I want to hear you scream it", he whispered.

"PLEASE…" I said again, but louder.

"Still not loud enough", he said, flashing me his sadistic smiled once more as he dug his fingernails into my hips.

"PLEASE MAKE ME COME!" I screamed, embarrassed by the thought that if Satan heard me, I would have an awful lot of awkward morning explaining to do.

"As you wish", Damien said, and thrust into me one last, rough time before we both came in unison.

"DAMIEN!" I screamed as I came. I think I might have heard him say my name too, but I couldn't hear or see anything. Except white. Glorious, glorious white. He pulled out of me and layer down next to me, kissing my forehead.

"Thoughtful son of Satan", I mumbled grumpily, snuggling up close next to him.

"Forever and ever", he whispered.

"Forever and ever", I agreed, closing my eyes as I fell asleep for the first time, knowing I wasn't going back.

**HMMMN, so what did you think?**

**YES, I do ship Kamien. SO HARDCORE IT BLEEDS. Literally in Kenny's case.**

**Ciao for now**

–**Chaos**


End file.
